


Stargazer

by Kendrene



Series: Rites of Passage [1]
Category: Elyza Lex (Fanverse), Fear the Walking Dead (TV), QTWD, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Masturbation, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-05-28 03:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6314119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrene/pseuds/Kendrene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alicia breaks the first rule of zombie survival guide, when she ventures alone in unknown territory, following what she believes another survivor.</p>
<p>Elyza remembers her past lives, she remembers another world where she fell to the ground and her name was Clarke. She remembers her love for Lexa. She knows they are soul-bound. The question is, will she be able to make Alicia remember their shared past?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I have been toying with this idea since I started watching FTWD, but it's my first ever cross over so be lenient. Comments and kudos are welcome. 
> 
> I will add more tags as I go along and I think this work will tie in to my other fic Landfall for some details. I'd rather reference my version of the show ;)

“ _There's just no rhyme or reason_

_only this sense of completion_

_and in your eyes I see the missing pieces”_

 

Savage Garden – I knew I loved you

 

Alicia would never have imagined she'd die in Hooters. She feels like she would laugh, if the situation wasn't so tragic. She grab at a ketchup bottle and throw it at the nearest zombie in a desultory fashion.

It was stupid of her to wander off, she realizes it now that she has made it to the status of daily special on the menu, but she had thought she’d seen another survivor and she would be damned before she leaves someone behind _again_. She had tried mentioning it to the others, and Travis had been the first one to chalk it up to her imagination and immediately dismiss the idea of _actually_ taking a look.

He always seems to reject any idea that isn’t his own, yet she remembers how he endangered everyone to go look for Chris. Alicia doesn't resent her mother for wanting to rebuild herself a life, but she wishes she would not have picked such a stuck up _asshole_ to do so.

It seems to her like he has forgotten everything about solidarity, which Alicia has always believed is what makes humans differ from mindless beasts. She has let them talk her into renouncing it once, when they made her leave Matt, to die alone and scared. There is a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that it was not her first betrayal.

She had wanted to believe his parents would be back and he would be ok, but now she cannot shake the image of him happily munching on them for breakfast. Bile rises at the back of her throat and she feel sadness and regret wash over her, yet the love she felt for him is kind of faded and she don’t feel as empty as she should.

It’s like she busied her with a placeholder for something bigger, and now she is just waiting for it to happen and the space inside her feels electric and still, like the air before the storm breaks. It’s been building inside Alicia for days now, and not for the first time she wonders what the fuck is wrong with her.

She dares not take her eyes off the shambling corpses that have backed her into a corner and her hand gropes around for something, anything else to throw at them. She slices her palm open on a broken bottle and the smell of her blood makes the bastards moan in anticipation.

Finally her fingers close around something heavy and she jerks her arm back and then forward. The salt shaker sails in a perfect arc towards the zombies and hits the closest one between the eyes, shattering in a cascade of gleaming shards. It recoils for a moment, but doesn’t even bother to blink away the blood streaming into his eyes, before extending his arms out, hands clawing the space in front of her face.

The boom of the shotgun is so loud in the close quarters, that her whole body hums with it. The zombie’s head explodes outward in a shower of gore, some of which splatters over the front of her shirt.

Her eyes shut tightly of their own accord and she throws her arms in front of her face to shield herself. The smell of cordite is heavy in the air and she sneezes violently as the gun roars again. She hears the second body fall and when she peeks between her fingers, the mess at her feet looks like a charnel house.

“He should have followed a low sodium diet,” a female voice quips sarcastically, and Alicia lays eyes on her savior for the first time. Her stomach tightens unexpectedly.

The first impression she gets is of barely contained energy. The girl in front of her seems so much alive, that the dead town around her suddenly feels even more desolate. Her golden hair is pulled back in a severe ponytail and she wears ripped jeans and trekking boots and a leather jacket that has surely seen better days. As she opens the shotgun’s chamber and the spent shell casings clink to the floor tiles, Alicia glimpses a long knife strapped to one of her thighs.

Then the stranger's eyes focus on hers and take her sorry state in, and she feel like she is staring inside a blue abyss ready to swallow her. The tension that has kept Alicia wound so tightly up releases and she lets out a small sob.

The woman murmurs something, worry creasing her features, then her hands grab Alicia's shoulders and shake her gently.

“Look at me,” she pauses, as if about to call her by name, but how could she? “you’re ok. It’s over and you are ok.”

Her eyes run up and down every inch of Alicia and she see her bite her lip. It’s as though she does not believe she has stumbled across another human being. Alicia's cheeks burn under her scrutiny, but before she can say something, the girl takes her injured hand in hers. A jolt of pain shoots up Alicia's arm and she hisses.

“Did they scratch you?” the blonde's question is so forceful she wants to jerk her hand away, but the feeling of her cool fingers against the skin is soothing and she finds herself unwilling to follow through.

“No,” Alicia's eyes are drawn to the side, at the broken glass on the nearest table, still glistening with droplets of blood.

She exhales slowly.

“We need to bandage that up, or the scent will draw more of them,” the woman gently tugs her sleeve and steps over the bodies, pulling her towards the backdoor.

Alicia resists and she looks over her shoulder, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“You _really_ wanna be dinner, don’t you?” her snarky remark is belied by the worry in her eyes, “I am sorry I interrupted.”

A bemused smile forms at the corner of Alicia's mouth and she turns her attention to the door, to deny her satisfaction.

“it’s locked,” she has tried to pry it open before without success.

“No shit, Sherlock,” she throws right back, and Alicia cannot help but roll her eyes in her direction.

Teeth flash in a wide grin, and the woman looks content, as if a great gift had just been given to her.

With a few precise blows, she smashes the lock open using the butt of her gun, then loads it and as she is about to step through the threshold, they both hear scuffling and a series of clangs come from above.

“Ahhh fuck, we have woken the neighbors,” she jokes, but her blue eyes harden as she scans the empty restaurant behind them. Satisfied that they are momentarily safe, she forges ahead, bringing the shotgun up. She moves lithely from wall to wall, like she has been trained to it, and Alicia wonders where the hell she comes from. It feels like she should know.

Something stirs inside her, and for a brief moment the restaurant disappears and the ghost of a forest surrounds her. When she looks down, she are clad in leathers and she feels an unfamiliar yet known weight on her back.

Alicia blinks her eyes and swears colorfully. Maybe the apocalypse is catching up to her, but it’s not the best time to go bat-shit crazy.

“You ok back there?” the blonde's voice breaks the spell and she jumps as reality rushes back around her.

“Fine!” Alicia calls back, although she is not so sure.

She takes a good look outside then motions for Alicia to follow. The glare of the sun on polished chrome forces her to squint, then she sees the SUV backed up in the alley.

“Come on, princess,” the woman says amused and she cringes, yet she is sure she has heard the joke before. Alicia clambers up to the passenger seat and when she hears the doors’ locks engage, she realizes what grates her is that her providential savior has acted like she knew her all along.

* * *

 

 

Her scent as Elyza bends across her seat to rummage in the compartment under the dashboard, goes straight to her head and she feels herself grow instantly wet, her mound throbbing almost painfully against the seam of her jeans.

Her hand closes around the tea tree oil bottle and she busies herself with setting it on the dash along with a pack of gauze, to hide her discomfort. She is elated it has begun again, yet feels so tired.

For once she wishes the burden of remembering and making the other remember would fall on Lexa, but it is always hers. Clarke....Elyza is the catalyst, eventually the other comes to her and she has to make her love and trust her all over again.

Elyza takes the girl's hand between hers gently and she cannot help that her fingers shake slightly. She does not resent her, but she craves the bliss of ignorance just once. To live a life without knowing, without the burdening memories of all the times Lexa died in her arms, until she finds her and wakes her soul from its slumber.

They do not always get a happy ending, and when they don’t it weights down on Elyza like a mountain. Still, it is worse those rare times they do not find each other, and they both roam aimlessly as that life streams by without meaning, a part of them missing.

“What’s your name?” you ask her, as you dab a corner of gauze in the oil and clean the gash on her hand. She jerks back this time, muttering a curse.

“Quit being a wuss,” you grasp her hand again, a bit harder, and she lets you finish, green eyes intently following your every move. You fight to hold back a smile, you don’t want her to think you are amused by her pain, but she always has to be so extra about everything.

Elyza lets her gaze meet those forest green eyes and linger for a moment and she hopes to spot some recognition where there is none. She berates herself. She knows it doesn’t work this way at all, yet she hopes like a fool that this time it will be different, like she has done countless times before.

When the bandage is tied off and Elyza releases her, she makes an experimental fist as if marveling at her ability, piercing gaze full of questions. Elyza almost wants to melt on the seat.

“I am Alicia, Alicia Clark.”

Of course. What a fucking joke. It is always a variation of the same names recurring. She bets that if she bothered to keep track, she'd find she has met an Alicia Clark some other time too.

The engine roars to life and Elyza hits the gas, so suddenly Alicia is basically slammed against the seat.

“I am Elyza. You are welcome, by the way.”

She rolls her eyes at her, like only she can, and Elyza barks a laugh despite herself. This life ought to be an interesting one, after all.

 

 

 

 


	2. Traffic Jam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elyza helps Alicia find her family, but everyone is slow to trust in such a ravaged world. How hard will she have to fight, to regain the confidence of the one she loves the most?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually don't update twice in a day, I am more of a once a week kind of writer, but I had to get this off my chest today. The chapters WILL get longer going forwards.
> 
> As usual kudos and comments are treasured. Also I know the term zombie is not really used in the TWD universe, but you run out of synonyms sometimes. I hope you will pardon this little inaccuracy.

_"Go on and write me up for 125_

_Post my face, wanted dead or alive"_

_Sammy Hagar – I can't drive 55_

 

Elyza floors it, as if she can escape her exhaustion that way, and the truck responds with a lurch. Alicia holds on for dear life and glares in her direction. She flashes her the best winning smile and she folds her arms across her chest.

"I don't want to be eaten," she says tersely, "but you sure as hell are trying to end up dead."

Elyza glances at the truck's speedometer, and eases off the gas. A little.

"Better?"

She makes a non-committal sound, and when Elyza steals a look at her, she is frowning down at her shirt. The blood is drying rapidly, but she can't fault her for her disgust. It looks bad and smells worse; Elyza is pretty positive zombie gunk can't infect someone, but you can never be too sure.

"There is a duffel bag on the backseat, if you can reach it. There's some spare clothes inside. Should fit you."

Alicia looks at her, then eyes the bag, uncertain.

"Go on, I promise I won't look," she cannot keep the mirth out of her voice. OK, _maybe_ peek a little.

Elyza sees the warring conflict on her face and she thinks it is so weird, but refreshing to see her without the _Heda_ mask she wore so well. That is the life Elyza remember the best; she know there must be others, as she sees them in her dreams sometimes, but the one where she was  _Skaikru_ and Lexa _Trikru_ is crystal clear in all its details. Maybe it was the first time their soul met, and she has a feeling it will be the last, when the cycle closes, but she hopes they will be able to slowly descend into the release of oblivion together after that.

The tactile memory of black blood on her hands is so strong, she clutches the wheel too tightly and the car swivels dangerously, before she fights back for control.

"You all right?" Alicia's eyes are focused on her hands, and she slowly relaxes her white knuckled grip. The genuine concern in the brunette's voice sends a wave of warmth through her body.

"Just remembered something," Elyza mumbles then press the button that lowers the windows, "can you throw that rag out? It smells like shit and I ran out of air freshener."

She chuckles, then squishes her ruined shirt into a ball and throws it out the window. It unfolds, like a gory banner and flatters to the ground behind them. It totally doesn't look like a bad omen.

"Can you leave the windows down?" she asks, and makes a face, "I don't think ten showers can get rid of the stench."

"Sure," Elyza steals a furtive glance at her, and her heart clenches as strands of brown hair whip against her brow. She is resting her chin on a hand and seems lost in thought, her eyes looking but not really seeing the city rushing by.

"So, where did you leave the others?" Elyza asks. It will be dusk soon, and she'd rather not spend the night out looking for them.

Alicia stiffens and her eyes darken to the green of open waters. Her mask is back in place and Elyza shivers as the first image she ever got of her, sitting on her throne, as she was made to kneel in front of it tumbles through her thoughts. It is hard to separate Alicia from Lexa, because she _is_ her, oblivious, but her.

Maybe Alicia is starting to regret getting in a car with a total stranger, because every word in her answer is carefully measured.

"I don't know what you are talking about,"

Elyza sighs. She is as stubborn as she ever was. "Don't lie to me," her voice is harsher than she intended, but the wariness makes her impatient. Her whole body withdraws, as much as the seat-belt will allow, and Elyza's tone softens with effort.

"I mean you no harm, Alicia. Or your people," their gazes lock for a moment, and Elyza tries to look as earnest as possible, and there is a flicker of _something_ in Alicia's eyes, that's gone before she can blink. If only Alicia knew how much she really means those words.

"And here I thought I was the one following you," her shoulders slump and Elyza think she is almost ashamed to admit her mistake, "how long have you been watching us?"

"Since this morning."

Elyza reckons she _heard_ them first, along with all the Walkers in a twenty kilometer radius. Afterwards they were not that hard to find. A city is like a forest, only the materials are different. Anya taught her how to track when she was as green as Lexa... _Alicia_ is now. She would be proud.

Alicia waits for her to continue.

"I came to town for gas," Elyza says in reply to her unspoken question, "that's when I found you. I wasn't sure....you weren't dangerous." _I wasn't sure it was you._ She manages to hold the words in, barely.

"I left them..." she trails off as they both hear a scream and gunshots above to throaty purr of the engine.

She takes a corner much faster than she should have, and the whole truck groans as the tires skid and smoke on the concrete. They have only a moment to register the scene, before Elyza shouts to Alicia to roll the windows up and hold on.

Her eyes flick from one of the survivors to the next and she counts them all twice, to make sure no more are missing from the group. The man is facing two Walkers, brandishing a pistol and he shoots one squarely in the chest. The monster opens its mouth, stumbles back a step, a fist-sized hole above the sternum, then lurches forward.

Elyza takes one hand off the wheel without thought and slams it down on the horn. Everyone turns; the humans whip around and a little O of surprise forms on the man's lips. The Roamers are stupidly slow.

She honks the horn like a madwoman and hopes that they will figure your plan out. She does not dare look at Alicia, but she hears her breath come rapid, whether in fear or adrenaline she cannot tell.

The car is almost on top of them and Elyza is starting to think she will have to hit the brakes and pray, when the man tackles the others out of the way, dropping his gun. One of the boys jumps back on his own. The smart one, she guesses.

They hit the infected at ramming speed with a crunch of broken bones and snapping sinew. One disappears immediately under the wheels and the truck careens off the street, almost ending up against a lamp post.

"Where is the second one?" Elyza yells, eyes frantically scanning the rear-view mirror. She perceive Alicia shake her head as she twists around in her seat, trying to help.

"I don't know. I can't... oh, _Fuck_." They both watch, fascinated as the second Walker drags itself up from under the truck, hands grasping the spare tire. Its jaws hang askew, kept in place by glistening strands of muscle and the rest of its face is a torn riot of flesh. Elyza's boot stomps on the brakes and they are both thrown forward. Alicia yelps and she feels her own ribs bruise against the seat-belt.

The Walker is not so lucky: its head smashes against the rear window, so hard that tiny cracks appear on the tempered glass and its arms go limp as it slides off its perch.

She quickly puts the car in reverse and runs it over again for good measure. It makes a wet pop as the tires grind it into the ground and she can't help but grin. She thinks she should not relish this, she killed things that were something significant for other people at some point, but if she starts to go down that road she knows it will break her. There is no wilderness Elyza can run to this time, to forget her purpose and her duties, even for a little while, not when she has someone so precious to protect.

So to Elyza, the undead are not _he_ or _she_ , but _it_ , something that shares human form with her, but is so heinously removed from a living being that she feels no guilt when she excises them like a cyst. They come a dime a dozen anyway and no matter how many Elyza make dead, for _real_ , there are always more to fill the gaps.

It's kind of funny actually, how in her previous life she was _Wanheda_ mostly because of circumstances, and now she wears that title like a mantle on her shoulders.

The truck comes to a screeching halt next to the bewildered group of survivors and Elyza waves amiably, putting her best friendly face on.

The woman brings a hand to her mouth, then runs to Alicia's side and yanks the door open as tears of relief stream down her cheeks.

"I am ok, mom," the words come muffled as the girl is enclosed into a fierce hug.

She averts her gaze from that private moment and the man approaches her side of the car warily, hands at the sides of his body, so Elyza can see he means her no harm.

She opens the door, but stays in her seat and keeps the car idling. They have made enough noise to wake the whole town. Already Elyza hears crashes and feeble moans in the distance, and he does too, as his eyes dart nervously over his shoulder.

"We don't have much time," Elyza stalls him as he opens his mouth to thank her. There is nothing to be thanked for until everyone is safely away. "I know a place, not far from here."

He seems to consider, and when he is going to speak, she sees into his eyes that the distrust in him weights more than the immediate danger, and he will refuse.

The world seems to still as her path hinges on his decision, but it is Alicia that breaks the silence, surprising everyone.

"She saved my life, Travis," The world begins to turn again, as the first few Walkers appear at the end of the road. Everyone piles into the car, and Elyza is sure there will be arguing later, but for now they all seem united by a common purpose.

As Elyza puts the car into gear and speeds out of town she doesn't much care for anything, except the fact that when she said those words, just for a moment, Alicia's hesitant touch feathered her arm.

 

 

 


	3. Shelter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elyza thought she had the whole reincarnation thing down, but now is not so sure. She is scared and confused. but by showing her momentary weakness gains a bit of trust from the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual kudos and comments are appreciated. I really like the idea of soulmates and multiple lives, but it's very hard to write Elyza/Clarke and Alicia/Lexa. 
> 
> Particularly with Alicia I have to keep reminding myself that she does not remember being Lexa yet, still I want to show glimpses of the Commander in her. You tell me if I am doing a good job.
> 
> If you see any mistakes let me know and I will fix them!

 

 

_"On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair_   
_Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air_   
_Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light_   
_My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim_   
_I had to stop for the night"_

_The Eagles – Hotel California_

As the town's buildings become black dots in the distance, Elyza slows the truck down and relaxes back into her seat a little. In the back everyone is still quiet, shaken by the Walkers' attack and the pyrotechnical rescue.

The vibration of the car around her is reassuring, but she yearns to feel the lean shape of a motorcycle under her, as she straddles the seat and is so pressed against the bike that she can feel the heat of its engine like an embrace.

This love for the two wheels, bordering sometimes to an obsession, is a part of her that's new, as far as she can tell. She does not remember having a bike in other lives. In this one, the neighbor's son taught her the basics in an empty parking lot, and her mother ripped him a new asshole when she figured out what he had done.

She has found a bike that suits her fine, and it's waiting for her at the safe house she has picked for herself, but today she needed supplies, so she took the SUV. Good thing that she did, Elyza surmises, glancing at the scared faces in the rear view mirror.

Alicia's mother catches her looking, and she turns to the man sitting next to her to whisper into his ear. They give the impression of being lovers, even married perhaps, but she doubts Alicia and one of the two boys are his. Only one of the kids, the one that sits grumpily, arms crossed on his chest, looks like his kin. Same coloring, same eyes, even the same lines around their mouths. The woman starts gesticulating, and her voice rises a little. Elyza discerns a word here and there, but the truck is big and noisy and most of their exchange is lost before getting to her ears.

Elyza can tell from the way her hands move around that she is arguing with him, and she really does not need to hear to know it's about her. She sighs inwardly. Soon they will start asking questions.

The highway is mostly empty, save for the occasional vehicle abandoned on the side of the road. She has driven along several times, back and forth between her hideout and the town, slowly stripping it away of anything useful, to know exactly where each car met its end.

All the same, she slows further, as the nastiest accident of the lot comes into view. Three cars, all wrapped around one another, in what looks like an orgy of metal, some modern art sculpture dedicated to the dangers of reckless driving.

She has looked inside each car, but the people with you aren't prepared. Alicia swears softly, and her mom gasps audibly, as they take in the scene. The least damaged car is empty, and Elyza wonders again, as she does every time, if the driver walked off into the sunset, or is laying in a ditch further up the road. It's eerie and sad, but not as bad as the insides of the other cars.

The people are still there and, despite being used to it, she wishes they were not especially the toddler, still strapped into the child seat. The first time she came by, she got out of the car to take a better look and it actually turned to her, without seeing, but feeling the fresh meat just outside the window, and she remembers getting back in the truck real fast, and crying herself to sleep a few hours later.

It doesn't move anymore: the heat of the desert and being closed inside a metal box turned oven must have cooked the brains to mush.

It took Elyza a few close encounters, but she has quickly figured out that the only way to truly be sure a Roamer will stay dead once you hit it, is go for their head. Enough brain damage and whatever animates them will cease to function.

She navigates her way around the crash, tires crunching the gravel on the road's shoulder and decides she will come back alone in a few days and remove the bodies. Give them a decent burial. She wants to think it's because it's the right thing to do, but deep down she knows it's mostly because she is tired of seeing them.

“Are they...” Alicia swallows, and her voice falters.

“They are Stiffs,” Elyza replies, “they animated after death, and the desert's heat killed them for good.” Her eyes are clouded by sadness for a moment, then Alicia's features visibly harden, the same way they did time and time again, when she had another name and heavier burdens.

She knows Lexa is still inside her somewhere. What Elyza wonders is how she will manage to make her remember this time around.

“Stiffs?” One of the boys leans forward, putting his head between the front seats, and hiding Alicia's face from her view for a moment, “original.”

Elyza shrugs. “Couldn't come up with a better name. The important part is they don't bite.”

He smirks sardonically, then taps her shoulder, “I'm Nick,” he nods towards Alicia, “she is my little sis.”

“Except he is the one that behaves like he's five.” Alicia retorts. There's some anger in her voice, at what Elyza cannot say, but her fierce affection is clear, even as she gives her brother an annoyed look.

She catches Nick's eye and he mouths a silent thank you. She feels they will get along, especially if he will want to protect Le.... Alicia as much as she does.

“Elyza,” she replies. Later there will be time to shake hands.

“You seem to know a lot about these....things,” the distrust in Alicia's mom's eyes fails to hide her grief completely, and Elyza guesses she has had her own share of hard decisions to make in the past few weeks. Maybe even had to kill someone she knew.

“I've been around them long enough,” she replies noncommittally. She braces herself for the inevitable questioning.

“How long exactly?” her eyes meet Elyza's again in the mirror and harden. She itches to squirm in her seat and clenches her jaw. The woman must have asked a lot of questions on her job.

“Couple of months,” she opens her mouth again, and Elyza continues. Best to tell the story herself. If they perceive she are open to them, they will not ask anything she isn't willing to answer.

”I came to L.A. to...you know, what every young girl coming here wants to do, make it into the show business.” Elyza chuckles, “even got a role in some broadcast sci-fi show, before shit hit the fan.” She has a hunch her stardom days are over before they even began.

“You can shoot,” Alicia says slowly, “and you know how to treat a wound.” She raises her bandaged hand.

“Flunked out of med school to come here,” Elyza shivers inwardly as she remembers how mad her mother was when she told her. She actually did not have the guts to tell her in person, so she saved enough money to fly herself to California, then called home when the school's paperwork had been processed and she was officially not a med student anymore.

She had been the only doctor for a few small communities, so she was E.R. and almost a counselor for those people, and had encouraged Elyza to pursue the same career, hoping perhaps she'd take over from her. Plus there is the knowledge from the other life, but it's not like she can tell this people about Abby.

“So you can shoot?” Nick pipes in, “that'll be handy. Can you teach me?”

“Nicholas!” the woman shakes her head, “you are not...”

Elyza interrupt her, “I can teach you.” To Alicia's mother she says, “you all should learn.”

“So how?” she throws back, “who taught you how to shoot?”

You think of the bow in the back of the truck that for some reason feels much more natural than the shotgun you used to save Alicia, then a young man's face flashes in front of your eyes, dark serious eyes, deft hands guiding yours around an assault rifle and a name: Bellamy.

For an instant the road dissolves into the insides of an abandoned bunker and Elyza hits the brakes hard, coming to a screeching halt in the middle of the road. Her heart seems to be trying to tear out of her chest, as confusion and fear assault her in equal measure. Did she live the same life more than once? She cannot be sure. Her life as Clarke is the clearest, and she knows Lexa has almost always been with her in one form or the other, but suddenly she feels like there are things that she thought she knew and she doesn't.

Her eyes shut tight of their own accord, and her breaths come in shallow, ragged gasps. Memories pile up behind her eyelids, threatening to overwhelm her, drown her in thousands of different lives.

Elyza feels gentle fingers brush the back of her hand and the fear recedes to a throbbing headache squeezing her temples.

"Elyza?" She blink, and Alicia's face, full of concern comes into focus, "are you ok?"

"I..." she takes a shaking breath and nods slowly, "I am sorry. It was my father and he..." The lie comes easy. She has never met her father, only know he was from down under. Her mom never talked about him much, and even if she was born in Australia she moved back to the States small enough to not remember much. She doesn't even have that heavy an accent, really. Just sometimes she'll use some Aussie word or other and people will look at her cross-eyed.

Yet Elyza remembers how it feels to watch your own father walk to his death, so even if she is lying, it's true enough for Clarke.

She drives the SUV carefully to the side of the road.

"I need a break," she announces to nobody in particular, as she bounds outside almost before she has come to a full stop. She walks a few paces away, the emptiness of the desert around her helping to calm her heart's turmoil. The sky is darkening rapidly, the setting sun tinging it with red and purple and lining the few clouds with gold. Night is sudden here, but Elyza isn't too worried. The safe house is not far and it is too hot during the day for Walkers to survive in this environment.

Footsteps approach and she half turns, expecting Alicia. It's her mother, and Elyza has to make an effort to quash her disappointment. Then she sees the brunette, just a step behind.

"I owe you an apology," the woman stops a few paces away and looks down at her feet for a moment, frowning, "you must understand...with what's happening...."

Elyza smiles and extends her hand, "it's hard to trust someone. Everything is gone to hell and..."

She takes the proffered hand in both of hers, and squeezes tightly. "You saved my daughter...all of us. There is no excuse, really."

Elyza blushes and suddenly feels very vulnerable. She have spent so much time alone that a simple thank you and some human contact are unmaking her. "Men can turn bad, really bad." Her voice is rough, as she thinks back to those she met on the road, driven rabid by tragedy.

"I am sure you saw some too. I understand."

She averts her gaze, and lets go of Elyza's hand, simply nodding. She doesn't need to voice what is clearly readable her eyes.

"I am Madison," she says instead, "and that one," she points to the boy still without a name, "is Chris. Travis' son."

Alicia, who has followed their exchange in silence, steps forward.

"Now we aren't strangers anymore, you think we can get back in the car? Today sucked," a smile touches her lips briefly as her gaze meets Elyza's, "well, for the most part."

Elyza laughs, bleakness pushed back for a while and motions them back towards the vehicle.

"Come," she climbs back into the driver's seat, "shelter isn't far."

 

 

 


	4. Shower Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally safe at least for a while, the members of the group slowly start to know each other and Alicia finds she cannot get Elyza out of her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT EDIT: I really tried guys, but second person narrative just doesn't ring with me. Changing all the verbs into third has been a bitch. Also, adjusted a minor detail discrepancy in chapter 3, regarding how Elyza learned to ride a motorcycle.
> 
> I really apologize. The story is the same, only the narration voice has changed to one I find much more natural. Second person narration worked fine in "A Little Bit of Red" but here POV changes more often, so this feels less confusing to write, and I hope, to read.
> 
> I have also added more tags to the work, which apply to the coming chapters, except one. Let's say I am giving in to some shameless smut before I drive deeper into angst again.
> 
> As always kudos and comments are welcomed and any suggestions are too! I really like the interaction in this chapter. Hope you will enjoy.

 

_"You're gone_

_and I gotta stay high_

_all the time_

_to keep you off my mind."_

\- Tove Lo _Habits_

 

Alicia is so caught up in her careful study of Elyza, that she doesn't realize the truck has left the highway for a dirt road that leads uphill, until it hits a bump and she is jolted against the seat belt. Her ribs, already bruised, smart from the sudden motion, and she turns her head quickly, biting down on a hiss of pain.

She takes a few shallow breaths and her eyes flicker to the girl in the driver's seat, but if she feels the scrutiny she doesn't show it, completely focused on the road ahead. The path is narrowing dangerously, winding around the curve of the mountain. Alicia's eyes linger on Elyza of their own accord, following the curve of her jaw, set in concentration, to the soft outline of a mouth that seems made for kissing. A blush creeps onto her cheeks and she directs her gaze to safer areas. Below, the valley is quickly being submerged by the deep shadows that precede proper night, but she can still see the nightmare town they left behind, as the last slanted rays of the sun shine off the metal roofs of commercial buildings.

Still her mind keeps going back to hair the color of ripening wheat, and eyes so deep she feels she could drown in their blue depths.

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_ The phrase has been stuck on repeat inside Alicia's skull since Elyza walked into the restaurant and rescued her.

She recalls the horrible moments, and the way it felt like Elyza was a superhero, as she took charge of the situation, pulling her to safety, helping her family out without a second though. Before, when she had to stop the car and recollect herself, it was almost reassuring to discover she was, she _is_ , after all human.

“We're here,” she announces suddenly, slowing the car down, and parking it in a clear space beneath some trees. Alicia looks around, but in the encroaching darkness cannot see very far.

“I thought you mentioned a house?” A slight note of alarm enters Travis voice.

Elyza twists on her seat and looks at them all. “There is,” she speaks slowly, voice reassuringly low, “you just can't see it from here. The trees hide it well.”

She shuts the car and gets out, and Alicia follows suit, filling her lungs with air so crisp it is almost painful. Wrapping her arms around herself, she shivers. The short sleeved shirt and fleece she changed into aren’t very thick.

“There are warmer clothes in the house,” Elyza murmurs so close her shoulders jolt and she takes a step away, startled. Even in the rapidly fading hues of sunset, a look of hurt clearly shows in the blonde’s eyes, before they go back to the calm blue of undisturbed waters.

Elyza turns to the rest of the group slowly emerging from the vehicle. Everyone’s movements are leaden and dragged, and Alicia feels exhaustion tug at the edge of her consciousness.

“If everyone can grab something from the back of the truck, we can get inside and start on dinner.”

At the mention of food Alicia’s stomach rumbles loudly and she feels a soft moan build in the back of her throat. Nick and Chris practically jostle each other in front of the open trunk, trying to grab as many items as possible and Elyza walks up to them, pulling out a backpack and rummaging inside for a moment. She hands a flashlight and a set of keys to Travis.

“Follow that path,” she gently grabs his arm and points the beam of light to a spot on their left, “it leads right to the house. I’ll grab the last few things with Alicia.”

Hearing her name spoken, she realizes she has just been standing in the middle of the clearing, watching the others, and the blonde in particular. Her stomach does a little flip. She wants to think it’s the hunger, but she knows it is not true.

_Again. What the fuc-_

Elyza’s gentle touch on her arm makes her jump again, and she stumbles back, cursing.

“ _Christ.”_

The blonde throws her hands up apologetically. “God, I am sorry…I…”

“No.” Surprised at herself, Alicia closes the gap between them and places a hand on her shoulder. The blonde is so tense her body is trembling slightly. Her fingers squeeze gently. It feels natural, good to touch her. She swallows hard. “You are just so… _sneaky_. Did someone teach you this too?”

“Yes.” Even in the half-light Alicia sees she bites her lip as soon as the word is out of her mouth, as if she fervently wished she could take it back. She presses on, curiosity piqued coupled with a strange urge at the back of her head that won’t let her drop the subject.

“Will you tell me about it?”

“Maybe,” it is Elyza’s turn to pull away. It’s slow, deliberate and Alicia sees her face shut down like a closed gate.

“We should go,” Elyza’s voice is a croak, like something is stuck in her throat.

They walk in silence up to the path and into the woods. The backpack she has carelessly flung over one shoulder, twists as she moves and bumps against her ribs. She shifts it around irritably, trying to find a more comfortable way of carrying it and sighs.

“If it hurts that much I can take a look later,” Elyza throws back over her shoulder. She has snapped on a smaller torchlight and steers them carefully towards shelter.

Alicia opens her mouth, about to refuse, still smarting a bit from their last exchange, then her ribs give a painful twinge and she changes her mind.

“Yeah. Thanks.” It’s stupid, she decides, to expect Elyza to share _everything_ about herself. She has already revealed a lot, while she was answering her mom’s questions in the car. More than most people would upon meeting someone for the first time.

_About that._

“I am sorry,” Elyza stops so abruptly, she almost bumps into her, and in the yellowish radiance cast by the flashlight, Alicia sees her brow knit in confusion.

“For what?”

“My mom’s questions. Some were...” she wets her lips, looking for the right word, “not tactful.”

A shrug makes the light wobble.

“It’s OK. She is wary. Wary keeps you alive.”

They resume walking, their steps almost silent on the layer of leaves and pine needles that litters the ground. A soft, warm light beckons ahead and as they come out of a bend in the trail, the house comes into view.

It’s a two story hunting lodge, built in stone and massive timber Probably by someone with a lot of spare money. Alicia reflects as they climb up the porch. The door has been left ajar and Elyza shoulders it open all the way, moving to the side to let her in first.

A narrow corridor leads to a sprawling living room, that looks exactly as she imagined it would from the outside. There are even a series of hunting trophies hung above the fireplace. The only thing that doesn’t fit, is the giant map of the Greater Los Angeles area, pinned to the opposite wall.

Some of its parts are labeled with minutely scrawled notes, and she stores the sight away for another time. She itches to ask Elyza about it, but doesn’t want to cause a repeat of their last conversation. The girl has saved them, true, but she must feel as nervous around them as they do around her.

Travis walks in, carrying a stack of wood logs that he dumps in the fireplace, and his gaze follows hers to the map.

“We are in the Angeles National Forest, right?” He has no qualms about more questions, and reflexively Alicia steps a bit closer to Elyza, wanting her to know she is on her side.

Elyza only nods, eyes darkened by caution, her body poised on the brink of sudden movement.

“Smart,” Travis says slowly, sensing her nervousness, “away from people, away from…” He doesn’t need to finish, the three just stare at each other bleakly for a moment.

“I am hungry,” Alicia says suddenly and the tension breaks around them like glass, “and I smell something good.”

They all do, the pervasive aroma of onion and meat and other earthly smells. Alicia practically bolts to the door, and the other two form a beeline behind her.

When they get to the kitchen, Madison is in front of the gas stove, stirring something inside a huge pot.

“It’s almost all from canned food,” she says apologetically, “I don’t know how good it will be.”

“Smells like Heaven.” Chris grunts. He and Nick are already sitting at the table, looking like famished young wolves.

“It does,” Elyza walks to a cupboard and starts pulling out dishes and cups, passing them on to Alicia. When the table is set, she looks at it critically.

“I’ll be right back.” She announces, and she’s gone before anyone has the chance to reply, and they hear the front door open. Everyone resumes talking, marveling at the place, finally starting to unwind from the day’s tension.

All Alicia can do is stare through the window, at the blackness outside.

 

* * *

 

As soon as the night air hits her lungs, Elyza slumps forward, almost draping herself on the porch’s railing. Her shoulders shake and her chest heaves frantically, gulping so much air in, that she starts to feel light-headed.

_It’s too much._

She squeezes her eyes tightly shut, and a single tear finds its path down her cheek. She has never felt to exposed. What happened in the car, left her rattled, untethered like a fallen leaf, swiped up by forceful gales.

Her gaze is drawn upwards, to the carpet of stars above, a view that always manages to still her interior turmoil.

She pushes herself up, and makes her way to the back of the house, to a set of steel doors almost at ground level. She unlocks them, with the keys Travis left on a hook next to the door, and descends the slippery steps, down into the earth.

She doesn’t need a light. She spent days learning the lay of the house and the land around it, so that she would be able to find her way under any condition. Besides, she does not wish to see the maroon stain, still marking the concrete floor. _At least the smell is gone._ She thinks almost wryly at the gallons of bleach she had to drag up the mountain to mask it completely and her back twinges in sympathy.

She finds the wine rack by memory alone, and grabs a bottle. It doesn’t matter which, they are all good. Whoever owned the house, had both money _and_ taste. There were pictures inside, but she boxed them away in a closet. She doesn’t want to be reminded that the Lurker she killed in the cellar could have been one of those smiling faces.

When she goes to get back inside, she almost crashes into Travis on the threshold.

“We were starting to worry,” she sees lines of concern ease around his eyes, “Alicia wanted to come find you, but I thought it best if I did.”

At the mention of her name, Elyza’s heart skips a beat. She doesn’t trust her voice to hold steady, so instead she lifts the bottle of wine for him to see. The light seems to ignite the liquid with shades of deep ruby.

He grins widely.

“God bless you, Elyza. I think we all need some of that.”

They return to the kitchen and her eyes are drawn to Alicia, leaning against the counter. When their gazes meet, she sees the brunette’s green look is frosted over with worry, that thaws away slowly at her sight.

With a flourish, she sets the bottle on the table and they all sit down, as Madison spoons hot stew onto plates that get passed around.

“Can we all have some?” Chris nods his head at the bottle. Travis chuckles. “I think you have earned it,” he replies, uncorking the bottle.

“Is it wise?” Madison asks, and Elyza hears the real question. _Is it safe?_ To let go for a moment and live a little.

She takes the woman’s glass so Travis can half-fill it, then makes a show of eyeing the quantity,. “Yeah,” she hands the glass back, “unless you are _such_ a lightweight.”

They all laugh at that and as they dig into the food, let the coziness of the kitchen and the sheer pleasure of human company take their minds off the horror for a little time.

 

* * *

 

Later when it’s time to go to sleep, they discuss how to split up.

“I’d rather be downstairs,” Elyza points out immediately, when Travis suggests he should be the one to take one of the couches in the living room.

Alicia is sitting next to the blonde, head tilted back, looking at the cracks on the wood of the kitchen’s ceiling, content to let the warmth of the room seep into her tired bones. As the topic of the conversation registers with her, she bolts straight backed, the familiar fear of the night’s loneliness crushing her heart.

“Can we sleep together?” she blurts out. Everyone turns to her, and Elyza’s eyebrows are doing a little number, trying to climb up on top of her scalp. Alicia feels embarrassment heat every part of her and amends with a stutter. “ _No_! I mean…in the same room…” her voice grows smaller and smaller until it tapers out.

_Oh fuck, that came out all wrong._

“Yeah. Sure.” Elyza manages after a while. She looks at the others and adds, “there are two bedrooms upstairs, and the bathroom on that floor is all yours too.” Alicia slumps in her seat, grateful to the blonde for taking the conversation away from her blunder.

Nick and Chris are the first ones to get up, to “go explore the house” as they put it. Alicia envies her brother. He seems to have the easiest time adjusting to the extended family. Maybe it’s because of all the shit he had already been through before the world ended.

“You sure you girls will be ok?” Travis asks one last time, putting an arm around Madison’s shoulders. Alicia makes a face at the gesture, and her mother rolls her eyes in her direction.

“I sleep with one eye open.” Elyza’s voice has dropped so low it is almost a growl. Madison gives a nervous giggle, but the girl’s expression is deadly serious.

Alicia’s eyes go from Travis to her and her brows furrow. She feels instinctively this is some sort of dominance game and the way they have locked stares almost makes the air shimmer between them.

He is the first one to look away, and a little jolt of satisfaction flashes through her chest.

“Goodnight ,” he nods to both, leading her mom upstairs after the boys. Once they are alone, Elyza puffs out a breath and grins at her.

“Shall we go to bed then?” Her blue eyes are full of mischief as she drawls out the question. Sudden heat spreads between Alicia’s legs.

_Oh hell._

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you?” she says, even as a hint of wetness makes her squirm uncomfortably in the seat.

An expression of feigned innocence comes over the blonde’s features.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she deadpans, giving a passable imitation of Alicia’s own reply earlier in the truck. She glares back, lifting her chin slightly, rolls her eyes and Elyza’s grin just widens. It seems Alicia’s infamous death-stare has no effect on her.

_As if she was used to it._

Elyza's gaze moves away, freeing her from its hold and the blonde stands, motioning her back towards the living room. She stops briefly in front of a closet and, after an assessing look in her direction, pulls out some clothes that look decidedly warmer than what she has on.

“Here,” she hands them over along with a big, fuzzy, absurdly _pink_ towel that has no business existing in a post apocalyptic world, and points to a closed door at the end of the hall. “If you want you can take a shower first.”

Alicia nods gratefully. An icy cold shower is just what she needs. She walks to the bathroom and shuts the door behind her, leaning her forehead against the cool wood for a moment.

She takes a deep breath, letting the smoothness of the wood against her forehead, the quiet of the night, help her refocus. It's not like she hasn't felt attracted by a girl before, but this seems like more than fleeting appreciation. What scares her is how _right_ it all feels, considering she has known Elyza for only a couple of hours.

_Have you?_

Her body is speared through by a shudder. Whenever those sapphire eyes look at her, her heart quickens and she feels a yearning so strong it makes her weak in the knees and she has to fight to stay on her feet. Every _fucking_ time.

With a growl of frustration Alicia tears off her clothes and turns the water on. As she steps under the jet, the iciness makes her gasp for breath, but she kept the water cold on purpose, to try and extinguish the burn of need at her core. Still, it is not working, if anything the gelid liquid is making her more aroused. She closes her eyes, one hand pressed against the bathroom tiles, slick with water and fogged by her frantic breaths, while her other hand unwittingly slides down her stomach and lower. When she cups herself, her back spasms, traversed by something like an electric shock, and her arousal instantly coats her fingers.

_You can still stop yourself, Alicia._

Right.

As soon as the tip of one finger brushes against her center, she feels herself grow unsteady and her hips rock her into the wall. She inhales sharply when her breasts, already sensitive, touch the cold, wet tiles. She is wrong, she cannot stop herself, and no matter how hard she squeezes her eyes shut, all she sees etched into her eyelids is Elyza's face.

She climbs to the edge so quickly, and falls on the other side so devastatingly fast, that she finds herself on her knees. She crumbles, like a landslide in torrential rain and, despite biting the inside of her cheek bloody, moans.

A soft knock at the door is followed by Elyza's voice, full of concern.

“Are you ok? Alicia?”

It takes her three tries, but finally she manages to mumble back something entirely false. Shuddering, she shuts the water off and quickly towels herself dry. When she pats her side she winces, having completely forgotten about the spectacular bruise that is forming along her rib cage. After she is finally dressed and steps into the corridor, she is half relieved, half disappointed that Elyza isn't hovering just behind the door.

She pads silently back to the living room, ribs now throbbing painfully. Elyza is using a fire poker to enliven the flames in the hearth, but she turns just in time to catch her grimace in the low light.

“Let me take care of that for you.” After what she just did, Alicia is even afraid to approach the blonde, fearing she will smell her lingering arousal.

“Come on,” Elyza is about to add something else, she sees it in the way her eyes light up with playfulness, but then she sees something on Alicia's face that turns her gaze towards gentleness and she just extends a hand, almost timidly.

Before Alicia realizes what she has done, her fingers entwine with Elyza's and the blonde slowly draws her to sit on the couch. She actually moves a bit towards the edge, giving her more space.

“Can I?” She tugs softly on the hem of Alicia's shirt and the brunette can only nod weakly, green eyes burning with the golden halo of the flame. She is glad for the uncertain light, her cheeks feel as aflame as the wood in the fireplace.

Elyza's hands are cold, but not unpleasantly so and she looks down as the girl uncovers her injury. She traces the outline of her ribs gently, then looks up into her eyes and her blue ones soften further.

“I need to press a bit, to see if there is more damage. It may hurt a little.”

“I'm ok.” Alicia is not about to show any more weakness and she schools her features into a determined look that elicits a nod and a flash of... _recognition?_ in Elyza's gaze.

The fingers probe delicately, then as slowly as she has lifted it, the blonde lets the shirt fall to cover her body. As her knuckles graze Alicia's skin on their way down, she feels little ripples pebble her skin.

When Elyza stands and walks to the other couch, she almost whimpers.

“Just wake me if you need anything,” Alicia watches as she settles down with a tired sigh, “I wasn't kidding when I told Travis I am a light sleeper.”

“Thank you, Elyza.” _For everything_ , she wants to say, even the strange emotions she cannot explain. Alicia has not felt so grounded since she left her home and her life behind.

“Goodnight, Alicia.” There is a slight hesitation before the blonde says her name, but the hum of warmth she detects in her voice makes her heart clench deliciously.

The soft creaking of the wood splintering in the fire and the sigh of the wind outside, gently drag Alicia towards sleep.

She does not feel Elyza's gaze linger on her for a long time, watchful and caring, after she has succumbed to slumber.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alicia/Lexa, you adorable dork,


	5. Nightly Terrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alicia and Elyza awake in the middle of the night to what they believe an intruder and perhaps get a bit closer.
> 
> Later Elyza shares a bonding moment with Madison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING
> 
> A word of warning - a suicide attempt is subtly referenced in this chapter. Please, read at your own discretion. I would like to say that I have been to some dark places myself, but was lucky enough to find people that listened to my cries for help at the right time. 
> 
> So please, if you ever feel like you are contemplating something of the like, reach out- things can get desperate and overwhelming, but there is always someone out there, ready to listen and let you lean on them for a while. I hope I will do a good job of such a serious theme, which will also be treated in coming chapters. If you have something you want to add, or you think I am doing something wrong, do not hesitate to contact me in the comments.
> 
> As usual your feedback is much appreciated.

 

 

_“Oh, yeees…” her moan is a hiss, drawn out of Clarke’s throat by the insistent sweeps of Lexa’s tongue against her throbbing clit. Her hand cards gently through the brunette’s hair, her face hidden, firmly planted between the blonde’s spread legs._

_The candles, burning low, ignite Lexa’s hair with a touch of red fire, and Clarke’s heavy lidded eyes stare enthralled as the Commander’s hands run up and down her thighs, now soothingly, now eliciting more moans, her tongue expertly swirling and licking and collecting the wetness spurting from Clarke’s depths,_

_Her hips thrust upwards, her whole body glistening with sweat, and her hand involuntarily tightens in Lexa’s hair as she climbs closer, but torturously slow towards climax._

_She feels her lover’s hands slide under her, cupping her ass, lifting it off the bed as she presses her mouth fully to Clarke’s dripping pussy. The blonde yelps in surprise and a hint of pain as Lexa’s teeth graze her clit, but then a swirl of tongue dissolves her world into pleasure._

_“Oh baby,” she pants, “eat me out. Oh please...please…”_

_There is a groan and a hiss from between her legs, then Lexa’s face jerks up, green eyes meeting hers, unseeing, glazed by cataracts, weeping thick, milky tears, her jaws open and tongue lolling out._

_Clarke’s eyes widen in shock and when she speaks her voice is a tremor of fear, bliss forgotten._

_“Niron?”_

_Lexa moans again, then bites down between her legs, hard, a spray of blood painting the air between them a bright crimson._

_Clarke feels Lexa’s teeth rip into her as her lover eats her alive._

* * *

 

Elyza bolts awake with a yelp of animalistic panic, blankets tangling around flailing limbs as she falls off the couch. She hits the ground all knees and elbows and groans as sharp pain stabs her joints.

Solicitous hands grab her shoulders and pull her into a tight hold, and she almost lashes out in self-defence, the memory of the nightmare like fresh acid on her mind, before Alicia’s scent finds her nose.

“It’s ok,” the brunette murmurs against her hair. She has half-lifted her off the floor and is cradling her against her shoulder. Elyza’s heart slowly settles and she blinks a few times, banishing the last lingering images from her mind.

The fire has died down to glowing embers, but she can still partly make out Alicia’s face. She reads concern on it, fear at being woken so suddenly and some other emotion she cannot quite place. When the girl realizes how close they are, she averts her gaze and clears her throat, and Elyza fancies she can feel the heat coming off her cheeks.

Reluctantly she pushes back from the embrace, wanting to linger in the moment, yet at the same time keenly aware of Alicia’s embarrassment.

They sit on the floor for a few minutes, close but not quite touching anymore, before she has ordered her thoughts well enough to speak.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” is all she manages to come up with. Alicia pats her forearm reassuringly.

“We all have nightmares,” her gaze drops and she bites her lower lip, suddenly withdrawn. The memory of a war tent flashes through Elyza’s mind, and a woman, different name but same appearance, biting her lips the exact same way.

Longing stirs inside her chest, warding off the chill left by the night’s previous horror, but before she can ask Alicia what her nightmares are about, they both hear a loud _thump_ coming from upstairs.

Alicia freezes for a moment, eyes turned upwards as if she could pierce the solid wood above, but Elyza is on her feet in a flash, hand darting under the couch’s pillow where she left one of her knives.

The broad, wicked blade gleams weakly in the penumbra, the serrated edge razor-like sharp. Elyza ghosts to the living room’s entrance, each step careful and light, feeling Alicia at her back, trying her best to imitate the blonde’s movement. Still, the floorboards creak softly, the aged planks settling against one another as the girls’ weight puts pressure on them.

The house sighs and shifts around them, the breeze picking up outside, grasping branches scraping against the roof’s shingles.

Elyza takes the stairs first, blade extended to slice the darkness, questing forwards. She strains to catch unknown noises again, but the night gives back only the forest surrounding them, the occasional owl calling mournfully in the distance. All appears as it should be, but her instincts are on high alert, and she senses a wrongness that has her palm sweaty against the knife’s hilt.

They creep along the upstairs corridor, passing Madison’s closed bedroom door, then Nick’s slightly ajar. The only illumination comes from the far end of the hall, where a window lets in a square of pale moonlight that outlines shadows in stark relief. Elyza does not look at it directly, lest she ruins her night vision, but she feels Alicia falter for an instant behind her, before the girl shuffles forward again.

The last door, opening into the upstairs bathroom, is also closed, and she exhales, chastising herself for being so paranoid, and probably scaring her companion witless, but when she is about to suggest they return to their sleep - as much as she dreads it - a scratching noise shatters the quiet.

Elyza’s free hand shoots up, signaling for Alicia to stop, right before she steps forward and pushes the door open firmly, weapon held high, ready to strike down the possible intruder. She is not prepared for the scene playing out in front of her eyes.

Nick is crawling on the floor on all fours, sniffling softly, a scattering of white pills around him, empty plastic bottle under the sink.

Alicia hisses at her shoulder and pushes past her, while she feels rooted to the spot, unable to process what she is seeing. Nick is pulled back from his frantic gathering with a harsh tug, the few tablets he managed to recover falling to the wooden boards anew with a clicking sound. He doesn’t resist his sister as she pulls him fiercely to her, in a hug that almost has the semblance of a chokehold. His cheeks are streaked with tears, and fresh ones leak from wide open, haunted eyes. Elyza hurriedly lowers the knife before he notices it, not wanting to add to his distress.

She joins them inside the bathroom, that suddenly feels way too small, and carefully pulls the door shut with her. It’s a miracle they have managed not to wake the others yet and she believes it would be best if things stayed that way.

“What were you going to do, Nick?” Alicia’s keeps her voice down to a whisper but anger brightens her eyes. He shakes his head, lanky hair falling across his face for a moment, but failing to hide a flash of deep anguish.

“I...don’t know…I just…” he slumps forward tiredly against Alicia’s arms, “I want to sleep...but _she_ is always, always in my dreams.”

Elyza reaches under the sink as he talks, fingers rolling the empty medicine bottle towards her, before lifting it to her eyes to read the label.

“Sleeping pills,” she scoops up the tablets and puts them back where they belong, before meeting Nick’s gaze and asking as gently as she is able, “how many were you going to take?”

He doesn’t reply, save for a sad smile, and she decides that in the morning she will get tools from the cellar and go get a lock if necessary. The nights are dark for everyone, lonely and filled with the things they all have lost. Maybe Nick was the first to unconsciously look for a way out, but she is positive he will not be the last.

Alicia says nothing, even if reproach turns her mouth downward, but her hold tightens and hands that Elyza knows to be so very caring soothe up and down her brother’s arms.

The blonde pockets the refilled bottle, then stands, pulling a towel off a hook on the wall and opening the sink’s faucet long enough to wet it and hand it to Nick.

“Thank you,” he wipes the tears away, then throws the towel into the open shower stall. Patting Alicia’s hand, he frees himself from her hug and rises to his feet warily.

“We…,” he swallows then his voice strengthens, “ we should go back to sleep.”

Elyza almost snorts.

_Like we would be able to._

“We aren’t leaving you alone tonight,” her nightmare is back, squeezing around her temples like a metal vice, digging into her soul. “None of us wants to be alone tonight.”

Alicia nods, and together they half-tug, half-push him out of the bathroom and towards the stairs. Once they are back on the ground floor, Elyza heaves a relieved sigh.

No voice is raised in questioning as they get back to the living room and as she meets the others’ eyes, a silent agreement takes form and hovers between them, and she knows that what she and Alicia witnessed, what Nick tried to do will stay between them.

With practiced gestures Elyza revives the flames, then motions to a bookcase that occupies a corner of the room.

“There are some table games there. Pick your poison,” Nick doesn’t suggest sleep again, and she spares them one last glance before going into the kitchen to make tea. They all need something hot in their stomach.

When the beverage is ready, she pours it out in three cups and brings a tray back to the other room. As she sets the steaming liquid down, she glances at the game Nick is readying on the coffee table and winces. Monopoly. She hates the bloody thing.

 _Because you suck at it,_ a small voice taunts in her head.

They settle cross-legged around the table, and Nick picks up a cup, grimacing around the first sip.

“Sorry,” Elyza shrugs, “haven’t found sugar in some time.” She fights down a surge of worry. Food is becoming harder and harder to find, her forays taking her closer to L.A. proper than she would like. It is not so bad with the infected on the outer suburbs, but she doesn’t want to linger on the nightmare that must be the city center. Yet, what choice do any of them have?

Not for the first time she toys with the idea of going north, towards Canada, now that she has found Lexa...Alicia, the impulse becoming even stronger.

Nick clears his throat and she is brought back to the game and the now with a start. He is holding out his hand offering her the dice.

“Your turn sleeping Princess,” her eyebrows fold in displeasure at the same nickname she used on Alicia not to long ago, the same quip another smirking boy used to throw at her any chance he got. He wasn’t laughing much at all by the end though, was he?

She squishes the past into a corner, but cannot shake the way Nick somehow reminds her of Finn. She remembers the way the blade slid home easily, the spurt of warm blood on her hands. A girl’s hateful scream in the distance, whose name she can’t recall. Did she sleep with him? She has a hunch she did, yet she remembers Lexa’s body writhing under her in all its details and his not at all.

_Why? What the fuck is wrong with my memory?_

She feels like she has lived the same life more than once, with different outcomes and bile churns in her throat.

She collects the dice throwing it down in one motion, almost angrily, and he raises his hands, but the smirk doesn’t leave his lips.

“ _Whoa_ ! What did I say? You _do_ look like you are gonna fall on your face any minute.”

She brings her own cup to her lips and hides her discomfort behind it, saying nothing as she feels her control slip for the second time that night.

Her brooding mood is infectious and wraps around them all, as they play long into the night, the only sounds the rattle of the dice and the soft pattering of unexpected rain against the windows.

* * *

  


Much later when even Nick has collapsed into untroubled sleep, Elyza stands, needles prickling her legs as sore muscles are set into motion after such a long time spent sitting, and gathers the empty cups, making her way back to the kitchen. She picks up the tea kettle, discovering with satisfaction that the water is still warm enough for decent tea and makes herself another cup, which she sips, leaning against the counter, gaze turned to the window.

Outside the sky is going from pitch black to washed out gray and the first morning birds have started calling among the greenery. It’s peaceful and one could almost pretend everything is fine, but Elyza knows all she needs to do is go into the living room and stare at the broken people she found, to know that it is not.

Footsteps echo down the stairs, then Madison steps up to the threshold and when their gazes meet, the woman’s eyes fill with concern.

_Shit, I must look terrible._

Elyza fills the kettle again without asking, and puts it back on the gas stove, as Alicia’s mother approaches and comes to lean against the counter next to her.

“You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”

Elyza’s shoulders shake and she nods. No sense in pretense. Besides she is way too tired to play tough girl right now.

The kettle’s growing rumble fills the space between them, then Madison places a gentle hand on her forearm.

“I wanted to ask...well…” she pauses, as if trying to find the right words, “I see the way you look at Alicia…” Elyza reacts without thought, jerking her arm away defensively, gearing up for recrimination and assault, but the woman’s gaze holds hers calmly and when she resumes her voice is, if possible, even softer. “Who did you lose?”

It’s too much and the walls that have been cracking around her all night collapse. She manages to set her mug down as the first sobs wrack her body and the world fades into a mess of hazy color and salty tears.

Madison’s arm go around her and she is pulled close, for the second time in a few hours. She goes rigid for a moment, then perceives the same gentleness she felt in Alicia and leans into the contact, conscious, maybe for the first time, that while Lexa is still behind those green eyes, it’s only a part of the girl sleeping in the other room. She should know by now, she should, but always forgets.

After a while her sobbing subsides and Madison lets her go. Elyza wipes lingering tears with the sleeve of her shirt and mumbles an apology. She should not have broken down like that, but it is getting so hard to be strong all the time.

Madison seems to read her thoughts.

“Everybody needs someone to talk to Elyza,” she murmurs as she starts to open cabinets and pulls out dried foods they can use to start on making breakfast, “I lost someone too.” Their eyes meet again and the words are formed before Elyza can stop herself, “will you tell me about it?”

Madison nods, and the girl realizes she really wants to hear the story, she needs to in order perhaps to process her own pain.

“Let’s make breakfast first. The boys will be hungry when they wake.” Somehow Elyza think Travis is being included in the boys category as well.

They start working, striking a familiar rhythm as they move about the kitchen.

_The living are hungry._

Lexa’s words from a lifetime ago fill her ears, and the blonde thinks the Commander was referring to a nourishment other than food.

**Author's Note:**

> I noticed when you add a work to a series it numbers them in the order you add. This and Landfall are more on a parallel standing, so you can read either first, or just one, or none at all (but I hope you won't pick the last option)


End file.
